


Date Me

by eeyore9990



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Doesn't Speak, First Dates, First Kiss, M/M, Stiles Speaks For Both Of Them, by choice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 02:56:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5358383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not going to be easy to have a relationship with someone who only communicates via eyebrows and grunts, but Stiles feels more than equal to the task.</p><p>There's a possibility that Derek agrees.  At least, his eyebrows do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Date Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KuriKuri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuriKuri/gifts), [moodwriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodwriter/gifts).



> Back in October, I wrote the first section of this (the phone call) for KuriKuri. It was going to just be a stand alone ficlet, but then Moodwriter finished her last class for her Bachelor's degree(!!!!) and asked for a fic where Stiles did all the speaking in their relationship. So I took that ficlet out, dusted it off, and decided their first date needed to be written.
> 
> Enjoy, bbs.

"We should date." 

Derek didn't respond to Stiles' announcement, probably because the giant dork had unlimited calling and data on a smartphone he _didn't even use_ ninety percent of the time — so much unfairness in the world — so Stiles was forced to fill in the nonverbal blanks. 

"Put your eyebrow down and unwrinkle your lip. This is a great idea." 

More silence, which Stiles chose to interpret as skeptical in nature. 

" _Rude._ " 

A heavy sigh to let him know Derek was at least still on the line and hadn't set the phone down and wandered off. Again. 

So it was time to break out the logic. Which Derek would probably call _wheedling_ , but really it was logic. "Think about it. I'm single. You're single. We trust each other — _and so help me, Derek Hale, if you don't get that tone of disbelief off your face!!"_

Stiles breathed heavily, feeling his angry-hot face start to cool down as the sudden flare of temper washed away. "Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. I mean, I'm here to stay and so are you and at this point, it'd just be a death wish for either of us to look outside the pack for a significant other..." 

Stiles allowed a moment of silence for Derek to get through the thoughts of Kate and Jennifer/Julia — and the fonder memories of Braeden, wherever she might be — while he searched out the window to make sure Lucien wasn't hovering creepily (surprisingly vampiric ex-boyfriends could get so unreasonably, _psychotically_ , clingy). 

"And, like, you already know how annoying I am, and I know all your broody triggers to avoid. So what I'm saying is: Friday. You, me, your couch, Netflix, and a bowl of extra butter popcorn." 

A minute pause in Derek's breathing made Stiles roll his eyes. "Oh, fine. Kettlecorn, then, you big baby. But next time, I get butter. Or curly fries." 

When the phone clicked softly in his ear, Stiles grinned and released a little whoop of excitement. 

He'd totally just scored a date with Derek Hale. Who might possibly even allow Stiles to refer to him as his boyfriend. 

Aww yeah. 

— 

When Stiles finally got to the top of the stairs, he paused a moment to get his breath back. And then he paused a moment more because _Jesus fuck_ seven flights of stairs _whyyyy_ was there no fucking _elevator_ in this building?! Once he felt like he could take another step without collapsing into a noodly pile of limbs, he walked across the landing to Derek's door and then realized… 

Shit. His hands were full. He was either going to have to put some of the stuff down or Derek was going to have to open the door for him. 

But okay, this was a date, maybe he shouldn't just barge in, right? Right. 

Resolve firmed, he leaned forward and knocked using his forehead and then, when that fucking hurt, turned sideways and used his elbow. Which was why, when Derek did finally open the door two seconds later, the handhold banged into Stiles' funny bone and made him drop one of the bags he was holding as his hand went numb and jolts of pain raced through his body. 

"Ow, ow, ow, shit, goddamn, _why_ is there a nerve there?!" Stiles hopped around, elbow tucked against his side since he didn't want to drop the stuff in his _other_ hand to grab it. When he finally settled down, he looked at Derek for the first time and… 

Derek looked like he'd just woken up, hair flattened on one side and a little wild on the other. While he didn't have pillow creases in his cheek, the skin was a little reddened and his eyes were still half-lidded. The t-shirt he was wearing was actually _big_ on him, the neck of it old and worn and stretched out so much that Stiles could see chest hair and the edge of his collar bone. He looked fucking _edible_ and _touchable_ and like something Stiles just wanted to _cuddle_... and he was wearing sweatpants. 

He had sweatpants dick. 

_Derek Hale_ had sweatpants dick. 

Yeah, Stiles needed to call this date off now before he did something stupid like drop to his knees and rub his face in Derek's crotch. This was bad. This was so bad. 

But Derek was waking up enough to apparently realize why Stiles was here because he blinked, his face going a little soft with surprise before he backed up, running a hand through his hair. It didn't help, just made it more of a mess. 

"Um," Stiles said, tongue tied all of a sudden. And then, because there was no way this night was going to survive with _both_ of them vocally uncommunicative, he bent and picked up the bag he'd dropped. "Kettle corn." The other bag he handed to Derek as he walked inside. "I looked through Netflix before I came over and they didn't have anything good in the queue this month, so I brought some DVDs from the house. Pick a movie," he called over his shoulder, "while I get this started." 

Derek grunted and turned around, the sound of his feet slapping against the loft's wooden floors doing something to Stiles' heart. It sort of double-thumped hard enough that he had to clutch at it and bite back a coo at the thought of Derek's bare feet. 

He'd seen them once before. They were kinda like small versions of hobbit feet with hair and adorably stubby toes. Stiles had asked back then if Derek's toes grew claws like Kali's had; he still didn't know the answer. Derek had just glared at him in a way that Stiles had only ever learned to interpret as _shut up, Stiles_. 

Sometimes translating Derek-face was more difficult than others. 

But it was cool. Stiles had learned over the years how exhausting speaking was for Derek. It was like words were the enemy, so Stiles had started speaking _for_ him. The rest of the pack just rolled with it and he thought, maybe, Derek appreciated it. 

Pulling out a giant pot, Stiles poured oil into and set it heating on the stove as he measured out both white and brown sugar with a little salt. Tossing a popcorn kernel into the pot, he waited for it to get hot enough to pop — which he miraculously caught with his open mouth when it flew out of the pot — and then added the rest of the kernels and the sugar and salt mixture, covering it quickly. 

Derek moved around him, soft music coming from the television as the DVD menu played over and over. Derek pulled a box from the cabinet and offered it to Stiles, who looked over and considered it, then shook his head. 

"That's okay," he said, grinning a little at the fact that Derek had bought Butter Lover's microwave popcorn just for him. "I mean, it's a date. I figure we can share?" 

And then he paused, frowning a little as he continued to shake the pot of popcorn on the stove so it wouldn't burn. "I mean. I know I said it was going to be a date, but if you don't want it to be, you don't have to—" 

Derek ducked down, stopping Stiles' flow of words with his soft lips. It was a quick kiss, over and done in just a few lightning-fast beats of Stiles' heart, but it was _significant_ because, well. It was a _kiss_. And it was their first kiss. 

A kiss to shut Stiles up. Yeah, okay, that seemed about right. 

Stiles bit the inside of his cheek as he went back to shaking the pot, the first kernels inside popping against the metal. And then he stopped biting his cheek and let the smile he'd been hiding bloom across his face. It felt kind of ridiculous, but when he looked over, Derek was smiling too, so that was all right. 

"So yeah," Stiles said, nodding slowly as his eyes dipped to Derek's mouth. "One of the best parts of date night is sharing the popcorn." 

When Derek's eyebrow crooked up at that, Stiles rolled his eyes. 

"Get your mind out of the gutter. This is our first date. Hands above the waist until the third date, mister. I'm not that kind of girl." 

Derek let out a small huff of laughter and pulled open a cabinet to get out a big bowl, holding it steady for Stiles to pour the hot, sticky kettle corn into. While he carried the bowl into the living room, Stiles grabbed a soda for himself and a bottle of water for Derek and went to sit next to him, leaving room for the bowl between them. 

Obviously not happy with the space separating them, Derek lifted the bowl onto his lap and wrapped one arm around Stiles' shoulders, pulling him into the curve of Derek's body. Stiles turned his head into the side of Derek's chest to hide his smile, then snuggled in closer as Derek hit the play button. 

Best. Date. Ever.


End file.
